Demon Kiss
by Katyla
Summary: Chapter 7 up! She always knew he was different. She could always sense something about him that noone else seemed to notice. She always knew the he would be her descent into the darkness, and she knew she would find ecstasy in every second of it.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** She always knew he was different; she could always sense something about him that no-one else seemed to notice. She always knew the he would be her descent into the darkness, and she knew she would find ecstasy in every second of it.

**Rating:** R for language, violence and sexual scenes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any characters recognisable from the series by J.K. Rowling. I do however own the plot.

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 1**

_I want you for my pleasure_

_I need you to satisfy my lust_

_I want you to be my companion_

_I want you to fly with me through the night_

_We play the forbidden game_

_We are hunting in the night_

_We kill for satisfaction_

_And we need the dark._

_-Forever_

_By Blutengel_

She always knew he was different; she could always sense something about him that no-one else seemed to notice. She always knew the he would be her descent into the darkness, and she knew she would find ecstasy in every second of it. She watched him for years, silently, noting every line of his face, every small movement and every subtle nuance. She dreamt of him at night, although she never spoke of those dreams to anyone, for they would surely think her mad. But he was so far removed from her, so far removed from everything she knew…He was like ice, like a sculpture in his pure white beauty, so unreachable, so untouchable.

Everyone said that he was a Death Eater, but she knew different. She knew he was so much more than that; he would never be part of so small an evil, never would he blindly follow another. No, he was too great for that, too singular in his exquisiteness. So she watched him from a distance, and every day she loved him more.

What she did not know was that he watched her too.

* * *

Ginny Weasley shivered and drew her cloak tighter around her slender frame, trying to keep the freezing wind from finding a crack to slip through. It was stupid, walking alone so late at night, but she needed the air to help her clear her head. At twenty three years old, Ginevra Weasley was no longer frightened of the dark, but this night she felt a warning prickle run down her spine. Perhaps if she had become aware of her feeling of foreboding before she had set out, she would have stayed within the safety of her warm apartment, but it was too late now.

So she trudged forward through the cold London winter night, keeping her head low and walking as fast as she could, her wand clutched tightly in her right hand. At the age of twenty three Ginevra Weasley knew how important it was to listen to one's intuition. She had to keep a tight rein on her unease lest she find herself running from one circle of bright light to the other, trying to keep out of the dark between the light of the street lamps. Apparating was out of the question since she was in muggle London and she could not take the risk of being seen, but she sorely wished that she could simply disappear to her apartment with a _crack_.

About a block from her apartment a sudden movement caught the corner of her eye, but when she turned her head sharply to get a better look, it was gone. She shivered for what felt like the hundredth time and tried to increase her pace, but she could not move much faster without jogging. Somehow she knew that breaking into a run would be disastrous, but her mind kept on nagging her to walk faster.

Relief swept over Ginny as she finally reached the entrance to her apartment block, and she yanked the door open with slightly more force than needed. To muggles the building would simply look like many others around the city, but none of them would ever enter it due to a handy spell. Any muggle that tried the door would suddenly remember some urgent errand that had to be done, and leave. It had worked fail-proof so far, and many witches and wizards lived comfortably in the building, able to do magic without the prying eyes of muggles.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Ginny wasted no time getting back to her apartment, fumbling with her keys as her haste made her clumsy. Once inside her apartment, the door carefully locked and several ward spells in place, Ginny leaned back against the door, sighing and rubbing the heels of her palms across her tired eyes. Somewhere in one of the apartments around her loud music was blaring, but Ginny ignored it, making a beeline to the kitchen. It did not take her long to make herself a cup of hot coco, and she sipped it as she wandered from the kitchen to her bedroom.

She dropped her cup, not seeming to care as the brown liquid flew across her carpet and her shoes. On the white pillows of her bed lay a single black rose.

* * *

Outside Ginny Weasley's apartment block a young man stood in the shadows. He does notappear bothered by the cold bite of the wind, and his black cloak flaped around him in the strong gusts. His hair shone platinum in the clear moonlight as his grey eyes remained fixed upon the building before him. Almost as if he could see something others could not, he smiled, a cool, slow smile, before turning away and disappearing into the night. 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, I must admit, I'm shocked. Six whole reviews. Six whole reviews on my first chapter of this story. Wow. I'm so glad you guys liked the first chapter, I hadn't thought that it was very good. Anyway, to thank you guys for the reviews, I decided to update super quick, so here's the next chapter! R&R please!**

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 2**

_I never promised you miracles baby_

_I only wanted to be with you_

_Trying to get over it is making me crazy_

_I never thought you could be so cruel_

_What ever happened to the promises baby_

_We made each other that night_

_Trying to get over it is making me crazy_

_If love's an angel you're the devil's spice burning_

_Up and down in my spine._

_-Next Stop Paradise_

_By The 69 Eyes_

The sun was too bright; that was the first thing she noticed as she arrived at the Burrow that Sunday afternoon. It was one of those stereotypical sun-shine-and-blue-sky days that her mother was always doing cartwheels over. Especially when they fell on family gathering Sundays.

Ginny suppressed a sigh as she rounded the corner of the Burrow and approached the huge table placed outside on the lawn. She didn't really mind the family gathering thing, but after her scare the previous night she hadn't gotten much sleep. Her eyes were red and felt puffy, and she knew she looked terrible. Smiling was not on her list of priorities for the day, but she knew she would have to suck it up and keep face in front of her mother. God knows the woman had been nagging at Ginny to move back into the Burrow because 'she wasn't taking care of herself properly'.

To top it off, she definitely did not feel like explaining the appearance of a black rose on her pillow to her mother. Hell, she couldn't even admit to herself how much the little incident had rattled her. Not only because of the fact that someone managed to get past her security systems to put the rose there, but also because she knew what the rose meant; and that was what shook her to her core.

Fred was the first person to spot her as she neared the table. He grinned and waved at her from his position next to his young son, who seemed to find throwing Percy with eating utensils vastly amusing. Ginny had to bite down a giggle at that. Taking out Percy was still the family's favourite sport – next to Quidditch of course. George and Ron were having a competition to see who could turn a gnome the most different colours before it managed to swoop back into its hiding place, while Bill, Fleur and their daughter Cerise watched.

Charlie had informed them all that he couldn't make it that day, which was very odd – Weasleys never missed family Sundays – but Ginny guessed that he would be excused this one time. She had just taken a seat when her mom and dad, Hermione, Luna Lovegood and – holy fuck – Harry Potter came walking out from the kitchen.

Ginny groaned and beat her head against the table. Just what she needed. The-Boy-Who-Left-Her-At-The-Altar. And he had the audacity to be prancing around with a person who had been one of her closest friends.

"You ok Gin?" Bill asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"No Bill, I'm not fucking ok. What the fuck is he doing here?" Ginny glared up at her brother, not caring that she was swearing profusely in front of her siblings' children.

Bill shrugged uncomfortably. "You know Mom, Gin, she misses Harry. Always said he was like another son to her."

"He's not her fucking son." Ginny grumbled beneath her breath. "I don't want him here, Bill. I don't want to see him at all – not after what he did to me."

"I know Gin-bug, I know." Bill rubbed her shoulders affectionately. "But Ron misses having him around as well."

The words had barely left his mouth when Ron headed over to hug his best friend and kiss Hermione, giving Luna an affectionate hug.

"I'm leaving." Ginny declared, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Mom and Dad haven't even noticed me yet. Just tell them I had some work to do…or something."

Fred and George had wandered over to them, and were just about to forcibly restrain their only sister from running off when Molly spotted her daughter.

"Ginny darling!" Molly called. "I'm so glad you're here." Molly Weasley did not appear to have aged one bit, except perhaps for the fact that her hair was sprinkled with a little more grey. She had become, however, even more like a mother hen as the years had passed. Having nearly lost Percy during Ginny's fourth year, she seemed to have decided that her children needed even more mothering, and although Ginny understood – and was grateful for the fact that she was blessed with such love – it became greatly annoying at times.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny turned around with a tight smile on her face. "Of course I'd be here Mom."

* * *

He's proposed to her on Christmas day exactly one year after she graduated. One year after the fall of Voldemort and the destruction of his Death Eaters. He'd accompanied her to the Burrow's kitchen to fetch more hot chocolate after everyone opened their presents, and had suddenly and unexpectedly dropped to one knee.

The ring had been beautiful, and Ginny had been so certain that just like the diamond on the ring, her and Harry's relationship would last forever. She had never been sure whether she truly was in love with The-Boy-Who-Lived when they started dating after her graduation, for there was always the shadow of the Other One with her, but on that day she convinced herself that she truly _did _love him. After all, he was her first great love, wasn't he?

They were to be married in the spring, but when the great day came, Harry never showed. He didn't even send her a note to explain. Now, almost four years later he turned up at _her_ family's gathering with his new girlfriend as if nothing had ever happened. Ginny felt like smashing something – preferably Harry's face – into a million pieces. She wasn't in love with him anymore, but it still hurt that he could just pack up and leave without saying a word, and then to add insult to injury, never speak to her again.

Until he stood in front of her in the Weasley kitchen, that was.

"Look Ginny - " He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his green eyes staring at her pleadingly from behind his glasses.

"No Harry, I don't want to hear it. You haven't spoken to me in nearly four years, what could you possibly have to say now?" Ginny shook her head and gripped the pot she was carrying tighter. "You made your choice, now fuck off out of my life."

"I didn't mean for it to happen that way Gin." He tried to put a hand on her arm, but she stepped back to avoid his touch.

"Whatever Harry. Just take Luna and leave, I don't want you here." She started towards the door, ignoring the piteous look he was giving her. He tried to say something more, but Ginny cut him off again. "I said I don't want to hear it. Goodbye Harry."

* * *

She threw her bag down on the coffee table in her living room before flopping down on the couch. She felt exhausted after her day with the family – and Harry fucking Potter. And to think that she had actually wanted to be Mrs. Harry Potter at a stage. She snorted and kicked off her shoes, leaning her head back against the arm rest. She loved sprawling on her couch, one arm hooked over the back, the other lying on her stomach and her legs all over the place. From her vantage point her eyes suddenly fell on the single black rose standing on the mantle of her fireplace. She groaned and closed her eyes, wishing that she had tossed the rose out the previous night like she should have. She had stood in front of the dustbin for half and hour, the rose clutched in her hand, trying to decide whether to throw it away or not. In the end she had decided to keep it, not because she particularly wanted to, but more seeing that she seemed to have some strange reluctance to let it go.

Yes, he was back, she knew that, if only she could keep her stomach from doing flip-flops every time she thought of _him_ having been in her bedroom. It wasn't fear – or at least, not only fear – that caused her reaction, and she hated herself for it. The return of The-Boy-Who-Is-An-Insufferable-Git was nothing compared to the return of Draco Malfoy.

**A/N: Right, there's chapter two. I know it's not particularly good, or very dark, but it had to be written in order to set the scene for what will follow. I hope there isn't too many typos or spelling mistakes since it was written late at night and I didn't have the time or the strength to edit it. Let me know what you think by reviewing! Thanks again to all of you that have already reviewed!**

**Corpus Nocte,**

**Katyla**

**

* * *

**

**Helldarkangel1:** Yes, you do get black roses, although they aren't pure black. They are a very deep purplish-blackish red. It can be a bit hard to get a hold of, but maybe try at your local florist?

**Matchbook Romance**: I'm glad you're in the mood for a dark fic, because I'm in the mood to write one!

**MissSalome**: Of course it's a Draco/Ginny fic. Wouldn't have it any other way!

**Allychik6:** Thanks! I was a bit worried that my descriptions weren't all that good.

**Power of the stars:**Glad you're intrigued; hope you like the rest of the story!

**Fearlessfreak: **That's why it's a Draco/Ginny fic ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow, you guys just keep getting better and better. 19 reviews? Amazing! does a silly jig I'm really pleased that you guys are enjoying this fic, because it is so much fun to write. I must just warn all of you that I am juggling two jobs and studying for my degree, so I don't know if I will always be able to update as regularly as I do now. Keep reading though, because I don't intend to not finish this fic. Review!**

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 3 **

_Been a while ever since _

_The wildest of the winds_

_Been whispering _

_About you again._

_Been a while ever since_

_The wildest of the winds_

_Started whispering _

_About you again._

_Feel my heartbeat _

_Like it's just begun_

_Feel my heartbeat _

_On this endless run_

_Feel my heartbeat_

_Forever more._

_-Forever More_

_By The 69 Eyes_

Mondays were not good days for Ginny Weasley. That particular Monday was even worse. She had trouble sleeping the previous night, fighting curious dreams where Draco Malfoy held Harry and Charlie on puppeteer's strings and Molly Weasley tried to force her to have 'one more slice of chocolate cake.' To add to it, her bloody neighbour had been playing the same Weird Sisters album over and over again for most of the night. Ginny hated the Weird Sisters.

Mondays at the office were even worse than normal days. For some reason most people seemed more likely to mess up on Mondays than any other day of the week, almost as if it didn't quite sink in that people were supposed to start working on Mondays, not Tuesdays.

The auror department in the Ministry of Magic was even more chaotic on that specific day than it normally was; which was saying a lot. At first Ginny did not notice the commotion going on around her - at least not until she had her second cup of coffee - and when she did, she was simply too tired to care. Slumping down in her dingy office chair, Ginny sipped her coffee with the quiet resolve to not give a damn.

Her walls were covered with pictures of dangerous witches and wizards, all of whom were smirking down at her in a gloriously infuriating way. Paper airplane messages were zipping overhead with seemingly dangerous intent, and somewhere an auror was singing a Weird Sisters' song horribly off-key. Ginny groaned and dropped her head onto her cluttered table, cursing lively under her breath.

"God Gin, you look like shit." Nymphadora Tonks cheerfully plopped herself down in the chair across from Ginny, a grin on her face. Married life seemed to agree with Tonks – just as it seemed to agree with Lumpin. They had gotten married the previous spring, and as far as anyone could tell it was the best thing that had ever happened to the two. Not that everyone hadn't seen the wedding coming for absolute ages, but unfortunately it had taken the two love-birds a bit longer to figure that one out.

Ginny raised her head from her desk and flashed the older woman the finger. "After the weekend I've had, you'd also look like shit Miss Perky."

Tonks laughed, shaking her head at the woman slumping in the chair across from her. "You really should take better care of yourself Gin-Gin." She was teasing Ginny, mocking the way Molly Weasley was constantly whining about Ginny not taking care of herself.

"Shut it, Mom." Ginny replied with a glare before staring morosely at her empty cup of coffee. "This isn't a joking matter."

"What happened?" Tonks sobered up immediately, a small frown marring her forehead beneath a shock of bright yellow hair.

"Harry pitched up at the Burrow this weekend – with Luna on his arm." Ginny was positively glowering, looking more cross than Tonks had seen her in a long time.

Tonks gasped. "Holy crap! Why? What happened? What did he say?" She knew the younger woman well enough to know that although Ginny was over Harry, she was still mad and humiliated about the entire situation. Besides, being left at the altar was not exactly what anyone would call a fun experience.

Shrugging Ginny fiddled with her empty cup, not looking up. "Apparently he's been back in Britain for a few days now, but he and Luna had met up in America about a year ago while she was working on a story." Luna Lovegood was one of The Quibbler's best journalists and often travelled over-seas to find fantastic beasts and incriminating evidence. Personally Ginny thought the woman could do better than write such loads of rubbish, but then Luna always had been a strange one.

"And he just turned up on your Mum's doorstep? Without an explanation?" Tonks raised an eyebrow. Like many others who knew Harry she'd been shocked when he left Ginny and then disappeared, but although she was as disappointed at his behaviour as everyone else, she still liked him to a large extent.

"No, Ron and Mum invited him – without telling me. Apparently they both missed him so much that they didn't even bother thinking about how I'd feel." Ginny sighed a pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear. "And no, he didn't have an explanation. Mum says she's sure he must have a reason, and that although she is still mad at him, he is practically family. He tried to apologise to me, but I refused to listen. Why should I? I know why he left. He didn't want to get married to me and was just too much of a yellow-bellied coward to tell me that to my face."

"Oh Ginny, I'm sure he has a very good reason for having done what he did. Perhaps you should just give him a chance to talk to you. I'm sure he can explain." Tonks shoved down a grimace at the expression on the other woman's face.

Ginny shook her head sadly. "I don't really want to hear it Tonks, it doesn't matter anymore." She gave a sad smile. "Besides, if I don't listen to him I can still maintain the pleasant fantasy that he might just have a good explanation, but if I do talk to him if I do and he has some silly-assed excuse, that little dream will be shot to hell."

Nodding sagely, Tonks sighed. "But you also need closure, Ginny. You have to let this go or you'll never have a healthy relationship again."

Ginny snorted. "As if I want a healthy relationship. They're so boring."

"Not if you know how to keep it interesting." Tonks grinned mischievously and waggled her eyebrows. "If you know what I mean, Gin-Gin."

Rolling her eyes Ginny laughed. "Thanks Tonks, but I really don't want to hear what you and Remus get up to when no-one else is around."

"If you say so, Gin." The older woman laughed. "Well I guess we should get back to work – with the new developments and all."

"New developments?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

Tonks stared at her in disbelief. "You haven't heard? You honestly haven't heard the biggest news since the fall of Voldemort? Where have you been the whole morning Gin?"

"Just spit it out Tonks, this whole suspense thing isn't working for me." Ginny focussed a flat stare on her friend.

"Oh fine. You'll never guess this, but Malfoy is back."

* * *

Malfoy Manor had stood empty for a long time, yet its majestic grounds and the splendour of the main house had not disintegrated. This was mainly due to a large contingent of house-elves who, under the order of the master of the house, had kept the manor going in its usual state.

For all the apparent Malfoy faults, there was one thing that they had managed to do beautifully. The manor was amongst the finest in the world, and during the many years of its existence became the envy of many a witch and wizard. The Malfoys had taste, and grace and a flair for understated decadence that made the manor unique in its beauty. During the many centuries that the Malfoy family name had ruled there, the manor had been rebuilt several times in to keep up with the current trends, although some features never changed. Built of dark stone in the style of the palace at Versailles, it had the delicate beauty of a French chateau in the English countryside. Immaculate gardens surrounded the house, hiding it from the eyes of the casual passer-by due to the sheer size of the grounds.

Many whispered about the secrets contained in the ancient House of Malfoy, and rumours abounded about the apparently vile deeds done in the hidden dungeons. Yet there was not a person in high society that had not jumped at an invitation for a ball or gathering at the Manor, and would in all possibility still do – despite the fact that the late Lucius Malfoy had been the greatest of Voldemort's supporters.

The Manor had stood empty after the death of Narcissa Malfoy shortly after that of her husband's, when their only son and heir had gone into self-imposed exile to France. Many still believed that he had moved there to escape prosecution for the evil deeds he did in his service to the Dark Lord, although those close to him knew that he had never served Voldemort. Others whispered that he had been a secret spy in service of Dumbledore and that he had fled the country in fear of retribution by those Death Eaters who still eluded capture. Such romantic sentiments were, however, not very frequently voiced.

The truth of the matter was completely different. Draco Malfoy had never served anyone. Not Voldemort and not Dumbledore. He held nothing but contempt for either and complete and utter disregard for their petty war. Draco Malfoy had left Britain for a reason, and that reason no-one would ever be able to guess.

The house-elves were not surprised when their master suddenly appeared in the great entrance hall of the manor. They had been sent notice of his arrival several days before, and had prepared accordingly. What did catch them of guard was the change in their master, although none of them could pinpoint exactly what had changed. It did not really matter to them either; they served the heir of House Malfoy, as their parents had before them, and that was all that mattered.

The Ministry had been keeping a close eye on the Manor for any sign of the young heir, for it was still wary of the son of Lucius Malfoy, not knowing his intentions.

The auror set to watch the house nearly died of shock late the Friday night when he suddenly looked up from his copy of The Quibbler to find the Malfoy heir standing before him. Draco Malfoy had glanced over him with cold, impassionate eyes before sneering slightly.

"Tell the Ministry that I have returned, and that the presence of aurors is no longer wanted on my property." The only remaining Malfoy's voice was steel covered in velvet and far more chilling than his father's had ever been. "I will not suffer impertinence lightly."

And so it was that within a week, there was not a witch or wizard in the whole of Britain who did not know that Draco Malfoy had returned.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stood impassively before the giant fireplace in what had been his father's study, his back to the dark-haired man standing behind him. There was a large fire blazing, although Draco had no use for its heat, and it cast long shadows across the big room.

"Everything is going as planned, Draco." Blaise Zabini was a handsome man with his dark hair and pale features, but he lacked the steel that Draco possessed. Yet he was a good companion, a faithful servant. He was the first one to receive the Gift from Draco, and it made him eternally loyal.

Even with his back turned Draco could feel his emotions, could sense what went through the other man's thoughts. It was that way with those Draco had chosen. They belonged to him as surely as Malfoy manor did, and it became so easy to know their every desire. Although Blaise was trying hard to keep his mind on the report he was giving, Draco sensed that the man's thoughts continued to dwell towards the pretty brunette witch who managed the British branch of Malfoy enterprises. Zabini's thoughts were of sex and blood, of pleasure and pain, and Draco smiled coldly.

"Very good, Zabini. Now, when you are playing with Elise, pleased do remember that I need her to run the British branch. Don't damage her. You may go."

Blaise bowed low and left the room, an anticipatory smile on his face, but his eyes remained cold. Draco turned away from the fire as the door closed behind Zabini, and his mind strayed to his own object of desire. She would be his, and soon, as she was always meant to be.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Once again thanks to all my reviewers, you guys are great! Mwah. Unfortunately I don't have the time to thank all of you personally in this chapter, but I promise I will in chapter 4! Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Right, first things first. Loads of thanks for all of you guys who have reviewed, it means a great deal to me. Also thanks to Jenni Draco's Girl for pointing out that I typo'd poor Remus's surname into 'Lumpin' shudders. So sorry bout that guys. Then, I'd just like to point out that 1. I am a Goth, and 2. This is a Gothic story. Thus, expect it to be creepy and weird (although I'm not exactly good old Edgar Allen Poe). I know you're all wondering about the 'Gift' thing, but be patient little grasshoppers, it will all unfurl in its own Gothic way. If you don't like Goth and dark-related themes, don't read! For those of you who do, please review!**

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 4**

_Let me touch your skin_

_Let me feel your rise_

_You will taste the sweet pain_

_You will light your fire for me_

_See the light in my eyes_

_Feel the razorblade on your skin_

_See the swelling blood_

_Let me drink your life._

_And in my world of temptation_

_I will wait for you_

_I'll show you all the pleasures_

_There's so much we can do_

_Don't be afraid my darling_

_Let me be your guiding light_

_Don't be afraid my darling_

_There's no reason for you to hide._

_-Bloody Pleasures_

_By Blutengel_

**Seven Years Earlier**

She was watching him again, he could feel it without even looking up. He always knew when she was staring at him, for a shiver of awareness would go through him. She was different from the others of her House; there was something behind those brown eyes that called to his soul, something so deep and familiar that he could not do anything but be drawn into them.

He ate mechanically, not paying attention to what he was eating or what was transpiring around him. The conversations around him were dull and mundane, repeating the same pattern as every other night: a discussion on Quidditch, mocking a student from another house, who was currently dating who. Pansy Parkinson was making eyes at him – again – but he ignored her as usual, every fiber of his being concentrating on the red-haired girl sitting opposite him in the Great Hall.

She had started watching him in her fifth year. He was not quite sure why, although he suspected that she felt the same peculiar sensation that he did. An innate sense of _knowing_, an understanding without words, a conveyance of something beyond mortal comprehension. So he watched her as she watched him, and he planned.

Shortly after desert appeared on the tables she got up and left, waving at her friends. She had a sweet smile, tinged with a sort of sadness only he could see, a longing for something she still did not quite comprehend. Draco followed her, ignoring Pansy's annoying protests as he left the table, shaking off her pleading looks without so much as half a feeling. The youngest Weasley was all that mattered.

The air was still balmy with the hint of summer as Draco passed silently through the front doors and into the grounds. She was like a pale shadow ahead of him, the moonlight glinting of off her red hair and her fair skin. She looked so fragile, so beautiful as she walked beneath the stars, her cloak hanging loosely about her, her hair cascading down her slender back. Ahead of them the lake shimmered in the soft light, lying quietly beneath the cloudless sky.

She had traversed around most of the lake before she came to a stop, and she stood quietly, staring out into the night. The Forbidden Forest spread out from the opposite shore of the lake, and there was a prevalent silence across the entire area. It was as if the entire world held its breath for what was to follow, as if some agent of fate knew the magnitude of the events that would follow, and this commanded a referent silence.

Draco moved closer to her, marveling at the perfection of her porcelain skin, the ripples of fire in her hair, the way her breasts rose and fell with each slow, measured breath.

She turned to face him, those dark eyes fixed on his face. "I knew you would come." She whispered softly, barely making a sound.

"How could I not? This is our destiny." Draco took another step towards her, his left hand reaching up to caress one of her cheeks. She closed her eyes with a sharp inhalation of breath, leaning into his touch.

"Our destiny?" She whispered, and it was clearly a question. Draco drew back his hand, looking down on her with impassive eyes.

"Yes, ma chaton, our destiny – although I cannot expect you to know what it is yet." A small flicker of a smile crossed his lips. "One day you will know, I promise." He left her then, standing alone by the shore of the lake, with a sparkle in her eyes that had not been there before.

When she returned to her room there was a single black rose upon her pillow.

* * *

They made love for the first time that Halloween, while the others were at the Halloween ball.

Dumbledore being true to his self declared that it would be a costume ball, and that all participants were to dress up. She went as Cleopatra, even wearing a black wig over her flaming red hair. A white sheath-dress clung to her curves, while Egyptian-looking jewelry adorned her arms and neck. The wig irritated him, for her wished to see her hair – the flaming mass of red that cascaded across her back as if it had a life of itself.

He did not dress up, he was a Malfoy after all, but wore splendid black dress-robes which made his platinum hair and pale skin stand out sharply in contrast. She couldn't keep her eyes of him.

Draco took her back to his rooms, easily avoiding any curious eyes. None saw them leave, and none saw them enter the Head Boy's quarters. He undressed her slowly, removing her sandals first before taking off the wide collar around her neck. Ripping the black wig off, he sank his hands deep into the red mass that spilled out from beneath it. The white dress slipped sensuously down her body, and he stood quietly for a while, simply drinking in the beauty before him. She blushed slightly under his intent gaze, and he kissed her passionately to ease her discomfort.

He spread her out across the dark green sheets, kissing and caressing every inch of her, making her moan and arch into him. Her breathing was fast and erratic, and Draco felt his own desire rise at the small sounds she made. She moaned even harder as he slipped a finger into her moist depths, taking one pale pink nipple into his mouth at the same time. He knew she was still a virgin, so he held himself back from his own gratification, bringing her almost to her peak before sliding his hard length into her.

Crying out as he pushed through her barrier, she bit down on his shoulder while pressing her sharp nails into his back. Draco kept himself still so that she could get used to him, only starting to move when she pressed herself closer to him, begging for more.

Their release came fast and strong, and Draco collapsed onto her slender frame, breathing heavily. The youngest Weasley slowly stroked his hair, her fingers curling through the platinum strands in a languorous manner. After several minutes he rolled off of her and they lay quietly beside each other, listening to the quiet noises of the castle around them.

**

* * *

**

**Present Day**

Ginny wasn't surprised when Tonks told her about Malfoy being back. She had known, after all, before anyone else. There wasn't another person she knew that could get through the wards around her apartment, and no other person would have left her a black rose.

She couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop remembering what had happened between them while she was in her sixth year. They hadn't been in love, at least she didn't think so, but it was certainly more than just pure lust. There was a kinship between them, an understanding that transcended everything Ginny had ever known. He had spoken of their shared destiny, although he had never told her what it entailed, and he had left Hogwarts before fulfilling his promise. What happened to him after his graduation was a topic of great speculation, but little fact was ever known. Even the aurors could find little or no trace of him during his seven year absence. His business interests were run by capable management who got strict orders from him via mail, although he never disclosed his location to anyone. Some even thought that he had moved to America or Australia, but Ginny doubted it. Draco had too much class and style to ever live in what he had called 'second-rate colonies'. No, Draco was European to the bone.

Not that Ginny had ever revealed her intimate knowledge of Draco to anyone. She didn't feel like explaining how she knew so much about the only heir of her family's greatest enemy. No-one ever knew about their relationship while they had been at Hogwarts, and Ginny intended to keep it that way. Besides, it wasn't exactly as if she had seen Draco after he'd left school. Their farewell had been brief, and he had promised to return. Despite herself she had dismissed his words, although her heart had wished they were true. The years had made her forget about him, and she had started dating Harry soon after her own graduation. But now…now she couldn't get him out of her head. She remembered the way he touched her, the way he made the blood race in her veins. It made her very aware of the fact that it had been a long time since she had felt any passion.

Harry never could make her feel like that. He was a considerate enough lover, but she had found that she felt no passion in his arms. But then, the Boy-Who-Was-A-Yellow-Bellied-Coward never really made her feel much of anything. He was sweet and kind – until he left her at the altar – but she had dated him more for her family's approval than for anything else. They so badly wanted Ginny and Harry to get together, and since Harry had seemed to be rather keen, Ginny had simply gone with the flow.

Now, as she moved around the kitchen in her flat, making herself a solitary dinner, Ginny tried not to dwell on what would have happened if Potter hadn't upped and left. What would her life have been like? What would have happened if Draco had come back and found her married to his greatest enemy? Would he have cared?

She didn't know. It wasn't exactly as if he had come barging into her apartment and declared his eternal love for her. In fact she hadn't heard anything from Draco after that particular Saturday night. There were no more roses, no notes, no visits: nothing. Ginny couldn't quite decide whether that was a good or a bad thing.

**A/N: Ok, that was a pretty pointless chapter, but consider it as a transitional chapter that just gives a bit more information. The next chapter will see more action. I promise!**

**Corpus Nocte**

**Katyla**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Greetings all! I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to get this chapter out, but I've been so busy with university and work and stuff. Also, I have been waiting to read HBP before continuing, so that I do not make too many inconsistencies with the book. But then, after having read the book, I've decided screw it. This story is officially AU. I'm not very chuffed with J.K at this moment, and therefore will continue this story as if HBP never happened. **

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. I know it's really short, and I'm very sorry, but things will be picking up from the next chapter, I promise! **

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 5**

_A nocturnal concerto  
candlelight whispers me where to go  
Hymn of gathering stars as my guide  
whilst I wander on this path of the night.  
Embroidery of the stars  
undress my feelings for this earth  
Send me your salve to heal my scars  
and let this nakedness be my birth.  
Macrocosm poured its powers on me  
And the hopes of this world I now must leave  
The nightwish I sent you centuries ago  
has been heard by those  
who dwelled in a woe.  
The distance of our bridal bed  
Await for me to be dead  
Dust of the galaxies take my hand  
Lead me to my beloved's land_

_- Astral Romance_

_By Nightwish_

Blaise Zabini raised himself from the bed where he had spent the past few hours, leaving a deeply slumbering Elise spread out across the mass of pillows and covers. She had been as tasty as he had thought, and the sex had gotten rid of the worst of his need. He walked towards the large window in her apartment, stopping for a while to admire the view. He did not bother with dressing himself, he was, after all far from shy and hoped that when Elise finally did wake, they could have a bit of a repeat performance.

He scratched a patch at the back of his neck and stretched his arms upwards, reveling in the tight play of muscles under his skin. Things were so different now that he had the Gift. It wasn't only his sight, hearing and sense of smell that had improved, but also his strength. He loved his strength. He loved how he could pin a man twice his size and three times his weight against a wall with only one hand, and not even break out a sweat doing it. Blaise had actually had to watch himself when he was with Elise, he could have snapped her in half without even knowing.

The half-empty bottle of red wine standing on the small corner table caught his eye, and he made his way silently over to pour himself a glass of the dark liquid. It reminded him so much of blood simply with its colour, but the taste was very different. Blaise sipped it slowly, staring into the fireplace where a small fire was cheerfully blazing. The texture of the fire looked different than it had before he had received the Gift – in fact, everything looked different. Sharper, clearer. He could see grains of dust in the carpet that no amount of cleaning would ever be able to reach. It had taken him some time to get used to it, but when he did, he celebrated it. Rumour had it that Draco's sight was even sharper, just as his strength was greater and his hearing better. Blaise did not envy him; after all if it wasn't for Draco he would never have had a shot at the Gift, but rather looked up at him. Draco was in all essence a god, if a god of death and blood, and Blaise would see to it that Draco was worshipped as he deserved.

A cold smile tugged at the corners of Blaise's mouth. If everything went as planned – and they would – Draco would soon be beyond the reach of any mortal creature. He would take his rightful place as the ruler of the wizarding world and usher it into a new age of glory. Voldemort had been a fool, Draco, on the other hand, was not.

Behind him, Elise stirred, her deep blue eyes flickering open under heavy lids. She smiled softly as she watched the naked Blaise turning towards her. He was about to go to her, desire singing through his blood, when he felt it – the soft trickle in his mind that signalled that Draco was about to speak to him. Blaise never knew how it happened, or how it worked. It was simply something that Draco could do, and others could not. But the message was always clear:

_"Come"_.

* * *

She could feel the warmth of the sun-baked sand beneath her naked feet, the wind in her hair, and the salty smell of the sea. The day was warm and bright, the ocean sparkling beneath the gaze of the Sun God. She raised her head from looking at the half-moon shaped shell before her, and gazed out into the azure of the waves, and he was there. He rose from those depths like a young sea God, his eyes the same pure azure as the water, his body bronze and sculpted. He was naked except for a small loincloth tied around his waist, and his dark hair fell around his face and past his shoulders. She wanted to run her fingers through that hair, wanted to trace the lines of his body. Even inch of her cried for it, demanded it. He walked towards her through the shallow waters, until he stood before her, dripping sea water onto the dry sand, and when he kissed her, he tasted of salt.

The beach disappeared, but the man remained before her. His hair was tied back now, his body clad in an elaborate purple robe, a slender silver coronet upon his brow. They stood inside a darkened room, the only source of light coming from two torches standing on either side of a large statue, and before them, spread on a long stone altar was the white-clad sacrifice. She had a knife in her hand, a silver sickle blade, and when it swept down, blood flowed across the stones to pool at the feet of the statue.

Once more the scene changed, and she could smell the scent of the forest around her, she could feel the moist earth beneath her feet. The man was before her again, but now his hair was fair, his eyes the colour of the canopy of leaves overhead. A pair of deer antlers crowned his head, and drying blood covered his naked upper body. He placed the carcass of the King Stag before her and bowed his head to accept her blessing. His lips moved as he raised his head to look up at her, but she could not hear what he was saying, for somewhere a high-pitched noise was pushing back the dream.

Ginny woke with a start, automatically reaching out a hand to swat the alarm clock to silence. It took her a moment to shake the strange dreams from her mind, but she remained uneasy. Getting up with a long yawn, Ginny pulled on her green silk robe and tied it closed at the front. Her morning ritual was simple; get up, make coffee, take a shower, get dressed, but she moved as if in a haze. Something about her dreams would not let her go, something nagged at her subconscious like an irritating fly. It followed her all the way to work, despite the bustle of the early morning streets, and it was only as she entered her office that it struck her. The man in her dreams had Draco's eyes.

* * *

Ginny barely had time to get a cup of coffee before she was dragged into the big meeting room of the Department to be briefed about what sounded like a very important case. She managed to sit herself down just in time before Mad Eye Moody came tromping in, a thick folder under his arm and a frown on his features. Moody had been asked to be Supervising Head of the Aurors some ten years before, and despite his age, was still going strong. He no longer worked in the field, but his expertise and knowledge about the Dark Arts could not be lost to the wizarding community. In fact, Moody still trained many of the brightest Aurors to enter the Ministry, and often continued to function as their mentors once the Aurors got their badges.

Moody dropped the folder on the table with a resounding bang, and his gaze roamed over the twenty odd Aurors sitting around the long metal table. He glared at them for a second, as if expecting one of them to ask a question, and then flipped open the folder before him.

The austerity of the moment was ruined as Tonks came careering around the corner, tripped over the waste paper basket, slid several feet and flew – head first – across her own chair. She'd barely touched the ground before hopping up and plopping herself down in the waiting chair.

"I'm ok!" She exclaimed, an embarrassed smile on her face.

Stifling a giggle, Ginny glanced at her friend and shook her head.

"Well, now that the clowning around is other with -" Moody glared at Tonks, making her shift in her seat uncomfortably "- does anyone else have something to do before we can begin?"

Heads shook almost in unison, and Moody started sending a stack of photographs around the table. Ginny sighed and took one as it came floating past her. She hated crime scene photographs. Originally, wizarding photos had been used for murder cases, but since few people had the stomachs to watch corpses still dripping blood or going into rigor mortis over and over again, muggle cameras were specially purchased for the unit. The worst had been when some of the corpses were still screaming in the photos; Ginny shuddered at the memory. The picture before her might be gory, but at least it wasn't moving.

With another sigh Ginny turned her attention to the photo, taking in the pretty features of the blond haired women spread out on the pavement. Even if it had been a normal wizarding photo, the corpse wouldn't have screamed, Ginny thought in a removed way; you can't scream when you don't have a throat left.

Her brain was still trying to make sense of what her eyes saw, although Ginny knew from experience that it wasn't always the best way to go. Your brain will try to shield you from such gruesome horrors, make them more remote and incomprehensible. Yet, now that she was staring at it as hard as she was, Ginny could begin to make out the details of the murder. The first thing she noticed was the ripped out throat. The front half was missing, and one could see the whiteness of the spinal cord glistening against the backdrop of severed muscle and meat.

The second wound was on the inside bend of the elbow. Something had torn away the flesh and veins, leaving pieces of broken bone sticking up out of the hole. The witch's robes had been pushed up to expose the third wound, this one high up on the inner right thigh. This one was almost neater than the other two, in the sense that no bone could be seen, but in fact was probably would have hurt just as much as the other two. Ginny drew a face and whispered a prayer that the woman had already been dead by the time whatever it was had started to tear into her flesh. But that was the question, wasn't it? What could do something like that?

"Werewolf." One of the male Aurors sitting at the bottom of the table said. "This can only be a werewolf."

"In the middle of Diagon Alley?" Moody snorted. "Not unless it was pocket size."

"Some other form of werecreature then?" Tonks asked, pushing the picture away from her.

"Don't weres usually eat what they kill?" Another Auror asked.

Ginny was not really paying attention to what the others were saying, instead, she was leaning over the picture with a magnifying glass, studying the wounds. The edges did look like they were ripped by teeth, although something about the photo tickled at the edge of Ginny's mind.

"What are you seeing Weasley?" Moody asked suddenly, silencing the others and shaking Ginny from her scrutiny.

"Something's not right sir." Ginny glanced down at the photo once more, glancing at the area around the corpse. And it suddenly hit her. "There's not enough blood."

"What?" Tonks asked from beside Ginny. "What do you mean?"

She was sure she was onto something now. "All the wounds are in places where the big veins and arteries are located. The throat, the bend of the elbow, the femoral artery in the upper thigh. A human being should bleed to death in less that two minutes with wounds like these, right? So where is all the blood?"

Everyone was staring at the photographs in front of the them now. "She's right." Tonks whispered. "The pavement should have been covered with blood, but apart from a few splotches, there's nothing. Certainly not enough to keep an adult witch alive."

Moody had a satisfied look on his ragged features. "I was wondering who would see that. Good work Weasley. Now, what would drain a person of blood?"

**

* * *

**

**That's all you're getting for now. But don't worry, the next chapter is already half written, and if I get some more reviews, I might just post it very soon. Thanks for being so patient, and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!**

**Here's a quick shout-out to all my reviewers who have reviewed from chapter 2 onwards:**

**Draco-ginny-lover; Allychick6; Bigreader; Jeni Draco's Girl; Nerva; Shero; Nayh1; Maurauding-Stripes; Mell8; Helldarkangel1; MissSalome; Winter Fleur; Bebely Black; Lettie; Catwomen; Laura; Lithui; Power of the Stars; Katie; LadySnake; BeatleBaby54; Padfoot'sprettier; Loving Emerald; Pamie884; Sakura-no-hana-hoshi; Cherbi161; DracoVeritas; Latent Beauty; Suffering n Shadows; Fearlessfreak; JBakaLuc; Erena GT Rose; Skeleton-n-the-closet.**

**Thanks so much for your reviews guys, I really appreciate it. Keep them coming!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: See I told you the next chapter would be out sooner! I should be studying for my anthropology exam, mind you, but instead I'm writing fanfiction. Tut-tut. Don't you guys just love me for putting this story before my future career? Anyhow, enough babbling, and on with the story!**

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 6**

_Would you give me the key_

_To they empire of bliss_

_Give me substance to dismiss._

_Everybody's searching for difference_

_Everybody's searching for deliverance_

_Give me just another reason to live_

_Things you can resist,_

_Things you can not,_

_They're just framed in blood._

_Would you give me redemption_

_With your kiss,_

_Give me something that I already miss._

_Everybody's searching difference_

_Everybody's searching for providence_

_Give me just another reason to live…_

_- Framed in Blood_

_By The 69 Eyes _

What could drain a human being of blood in such a violent manner? Ginny leaned back in her seat, a small frown forming between her brows. The wounds certainly looked too savage to be human made, so that ruled out the possibility of the woman being drained of blood by a dark wizard, but no known wereanimal would drain a corpse of blood and not eat it. Unless of course it had been disturbed before it could eat the corpse.

"Couldn't it be vampire attack?" Ginny asked, glancing up at Moody.

"Vampires aren't known to be this savage, Weasley, you should know that. They leave puncture wounds, not gashes of this size. Besides, no vampire can completely drain a grown human being of blood in one go." Moody was frowning at Ginny like she had suddenly sprouted a second head.

"But what if it was more than one vampire? What if they weren't even really vampires, but some sort of revenants? You know, where the person's soul hasn't come back into the body after it died to become a vampire?" Ginny didn't know why, but her gut was telling her that she was on the right track.

"Those are legends Weasley. No one has ever been able to prove that such creatures exist. In fact, most people agree that there is no process through which the soul returns to the body after the person becomes a vampire." Moody was gazing at Ginny with his mismatched eyes as if he wanted to bore a hole in her skull. "Any other ideas people?"

"Could it maybe be a zombie or something like that?"

"Once again, Smith," Moody sighed. "How does a zombie walk through Diagon alley, drag a woman off the street and brutally murder her without being seen or heard? No, I think this is something we have never come across before." Moody stood up, pushing his chair back with one hand so that he had room to pace.

"I want all of you to put as much effort as you can into this case. If this happened once, it will probably happen again. If something feeds on blood, it is going to need a constant supple, so we can expect more murders in the next week or so. I want you to stop it before something like this happens again. Got it?"

The Aurors all nodded and murmured their consent, and Moody stood with his fists resting on the tabletops. "I want feedback on what you have found by noon tomorrow."

"So it's not a vampire, a wereanimal or a zombie. Then what the hell is it?" Tonks sighed as she flopped down in her chair.

"I don't know, Tonks, I don't know." Ginny stuck the picture of the body up against the wall of the cubicle she and Tonks shared.

"Ah, Gin, I wish you wouldn't do that." Tonks leaned back in her chair and covered her eyes with her hand. "I so don't want to stare at the photo every time I sit behind my desk."

"Well, think of it as motivation to solve the case, Tonks. As soon as we find the killer, the photo leaves." Ginny flashed her friend a grin that did not quite reach her eyes. She grabbed her cloak and slung it over her shoulder. "So are you coming to the morgue with me?"

With another sigh Tonks got up from her chair, shaking her head. 'Sometimes I really think you enjoy these murder cases too much, Ginbug. It's creepy."

"It's not that I enjoy people getting killed Tonks, I just really want to keep it from happening again.

The two women walked towards the nearest elevator and headed for the floo section, greeting people every now and again as they waited in the line. It did not take them long to get to the front of the line, and from there to the mortuary ward of St. Mungo's very little time at all.

"Ms Weasley, Mrs. Lupin," Dr Dukakis, head examiner in the morgue greeted them warmly as they entered his office. "What can I do for my favourite Aurors today?"

"We're here to look at the new body, doctor." Ginny said with a faint smile. "You know, the one that no-one knows what happened to?"

Dukakis' smile became grim, and the lines around his eyes suddenly became much clearer. "Yes, that one. Nasty business that, very nasty."

He led them out of his office and into the main part of the morgue, and stopped besides a sheet-covered shape on a trolley. "Here you go, ladies. Gloves are on the table if you want them." He pulled back the sheet to expose the corpse, and Ginny reached for a pair of gloves.

Tonks moved a bit further back; she was not as comfortable with touching dead things as Ginny was.

"Let's have a look see, shall we?" Dukakis nodded at Ginny, and made a sweeping motion with his hand.

Ginny started with the throat wound, touching the torn edges of flesh and skin softly with her fingers. "Well, I would say that the teeth entered the flesh on the left side of the neck, and then was ripped open to the right. Am I correct Doctor?"

Dukakis nodded. "We have had a teeth imprint made, and it is most strange."

Raising an eyebrow, Ginny returned to the corpse. "You can show me later, Doctor, but tell me. Have you done prints on all three the wounds? Are they the same? Was it one being that did this?"

"No, strangely enough not. They are very similar, much in the same effect as most human's teeth are similar." Dukakis shook his head. "Nasty business this."

Ginny only nodded, and moved to the third wound. After some poking and prodding, she stepped away from the corpse and drew off her gloves. "Any other wounds?"

"Funny you should ask, Ms Weasley. There are signs of bruising on the back of the neck, a few cracked vertebrae and posterior cranial damage. Whether the cracked vertebrae were present before death has not yet been established." Dukakis discussed the injuries as normal people would the weather, but it no longer creeped Ginny out the way it had done in the past. She had learnt that distancing yourself from these types of violent crimes was the only way to stay sane in the job she was doing.

"Could I see those teeth imprints now?"

Dukakis chose a folder out of a pile on a nearby table and handed it to Ginny. "It's all in there. The teeth appear to be human in every way, which is most curious. I do not believe that any normal human being has the jaw strength to do what has been done to this woman."

Glancing over the three prints, Ginny frowned. "Is there any way of knowing if the canines on these jaws are elongated?"

"Not really." The doctor shook his head slowly. "You think it might be vampires?"

"I don't know Doctor, I don't know."

Draco watched the swarm of Aurors from afar, a small smile on his face. "They have no clue, Zabini."

Blaise nodded from his spot beside his master. "No they don't, Draco. It will be a while before they know what hit them."

They were standing in a side street in Hogsmead, watching the Aurors swarming over the newly found body. The woman had been killed in a similar way, and there had been no eye-witnesses.

"She is here." Blaise pointed to a red haired woman, who was kneeling over the corpse. "She does not seem put off by the blood."

Some of the younger Aurors, and even a few of the older ones, had puked upon seeing the corpse. They did not often have to deal with brutal murders. They simply were not as common amongst wizards as they were amongst muggles.

"She never has been put off by blood, Zabini, particularly not when she has work to do." A trace of a smile graced Draco's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "It is good. That will make my job so much easier. The squeamish ones do not take well to the way we live."

Zabini only nodded. "When shall we move on with the second part of the plan?"

"Soon. Patience is a necessary evil, Zabini, and we have all the time in the world." Draco smirked. "We will pick the fruit when they are at their ripest, my friend, only then."

**Ok, ok, I know it was short, and I'm sorry. I'll try my best to make the next one longer. It is just that I really need to go study and I wanted to get this chapter out before the weekend. Hope you guys like it thought! Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 5, it means a lot to me. Keep the reviews coming in!**

**Here's a shout-out to all those who reviewed chapter 5: **

**Krystal Klear:** See, here's the next chapter, so now you know what happens :)**; Lightning8star: **Glad you like it. Keep on reading!**; Brokenangel14:** No, I'm actually studying archaeology and anthropology, but I guess I've just been reading too much Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Novels. I can't tell you what's up with Draco yet, it will spoil the surprise!**; Mell8:** I'm so sorry for the long wait on the last chapter, at least this one was quick**; Arrestingseraph: **Thanks, I'm pleased that you liked it.**; Lettie:** Here's the next chappie, thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ok, ok, ok. I'm well aware of the fact that it has been more than a year since I've updated, well, any of my stories, including this one. I guess it is mainly due to a mixture of university, writer's block and James's death. The fact that my apartment was broken into and all my stuff – including my computer – stolen didn't help much either. So I heartily apologise to all of you who have been waiting for this chapter for a _very_ long time. I hope you will all forgive me and continue to read. **

**I'd like to dedicate this chapter: **

**Firstly, to all of you who have reviewed this story since its conception. Thanks so much!**

**And secondly to James, my love and inspiration now and forever. We were never two my love.**

**Demon Kiss**

**Chapter 7**

_This is me for forever_

_One of the lost ones_

_The one without a name_

_Without an honest heart_

_As compass…_

…_Oh how I wish_

_For soothing rain_

_All I wish is to dream again_

_My loving heart _

_Lost in the dark_

_For hope I'd give my _

_Everything…_

…_Walk the dark path_

_Sleep with angels_

_Call the past for help_

_Touch me with your love_

_And reveal to me my true name…_

_- Nemo_

_By Nightwish_

It was the dream again, the same one she'd been having for the past week. Ginny stood alone in a deserted street beneath an evening sky muted with thick smog. The air burnt the back of her throat, carrying with it the smell of burning wood and flesh, while the stifling breeze swirled with drifting flecks of black. Her skin felt like it was blistering while she stood there, but for some reason she did not seem inclined to do anything about it; she was waiting, although she did not know for what.

She did not have to wait for long, because a cool breeze suddenly blew over her, carrying away the heat and the ash and the smell, leaving Ginny feeling better that she could recall ever having felt.

And _he_ was there, suddenly, as if he had simply been blown in with the fresh breeze. Yet it did not touch him, did not move his black cloak, did not ruffle the soft paleness of his hair. It was as if the breeze itself came from him, rather than from nature, as if he were larger and more powerful than even the fire raging somewhere in the distance – or so it seemed. The moon unexpectedly showed herself from behind the curtain of smog, showering her shimmering radiance upon him, illuminating him with a glow that seemed to come as much from within him as without. He stood silently, appearing more like a statue than a human, features set in that impassively handsome arrogance that he was so well known for.

Ginny felt her throat tighten, her breath catching in her chest. The part of her that was lying in bed, sleeping, dreaming, knew what would happen next, but the part of her that was the dream waited there, impatiently, breathlessly.

The smog parted further, and Ginny caught a glimpse of more black-clad figures standing in a semi-circle behind him, all with that impassive quiet to match his own.

"_Draco."_

His name whispered across her lips as if it had always been there, simply waiting for her to speak it. A shiver ran down her spine, but Ginny was unable to pinpoint any reason or emotion behind it.

He smiled, a soft, knowing smile, and stretched out his hand, palm up, towards her. "Join me."

Licking her lips nervously Ginny stood silently for a moment, caught between her need for the man before her and her growing sense of unease. There was barely a part of her that did not want to lay her hand in his, to take up the offer, to experience the promises held in his eyes.

She raised her hand, achingly slowly, reaching for him. But there was something calling her back, a pounding sound right behind her that she simply couldn't ignore.

"Come to me." It was as if he spoke inside of her, as if his voice could caress parts of her that no other person should be able to touch. And she hesitated, her hand still held suspended in the air, mere inches out of his grasp, but still the other noise intruded. The pounding was becoming louder every moment, and she heard a voice, a familiar voice…

Ginny sat bolt upright with a gasp, clutching her sheets close to her body. The pounding was coming from her living room – or more precisely from her front door.

"Come on, Ginny, we know you're in there! Open up!" She recognised Tonks' voice coming through the wall.

"On my way!" Ginny shouted back as she half fell out of her bed, grabbing for her night robe. She was at her door a few seconds later, dishevelled and slightly annoyed.

"Finally!" Hermione huffed as Ginny pulled open the door. "What took you so long?"

"And why aren't you dressed?" Tonks piped in from the side. "We said we'd be here by ten."

"But it can't be ten already!" Ginny grumbled as they piled into the living room. "My alarm hasn't even gone off yet."

"It's ten thirty, Gin." Hermione called over her shoulder as she headed into Ginny's kitchen. "I'll make coffee while you get dressed."

Ginny waved in a non-committal way as she disappeared in her bedroom, massaging her temples as she walked. She could feel a headache coming on already. Perhaps some good old caffeine would cure it. Grabbing some random items of clothing from her drawer, Ginny wondered if she'd managed to sleep through her alarm. Considering the dream she's been having it was completely possible.

The dream seemed to become more real every time she had it, as if it grew in strength simply by being replayed so often. The first time she had merely shrugged it off as some subconscious way of dealing with the Malfoy reappearance, but was a dream still insignificant if it occurred that frequently? Ginny had to start admitting to herself that there was more to the dream than she initially thought. And she also had to face the fact that it was more real than anything she had ever experienced before. A part of her, deep down, knew that if she gave in to _him_, if she took his hand, it would mean something not only in the world of dreams, but in the physical realm too. The part of Ginny that was magical knew this beyond all doubt. She just wasn't quite sure what that acquiescence would mean.

Even more frightening was the fact that it became harder for her, each time she dreamed, to resist him. To tell the truth she did not even know whether she wanted to resist.

"You nearly done?" Tonks stuck her head into Ginny's bedroom, a grin on her face. "I can't believe you overslept on Girls Day Out!"

Girls Day Out, as it had been labelled, was a regular thing for Ginny, Hermione and Tonks. They'd all get together on a Saturday every once in a while and do something fun. Ginny knew that it was a way for her friends to spend time with her without the fact that she was the only single one being overtly pronounced, and usually she appreciated it, but she just wasn't in the mood.

"Yeah, I'm nearly done." She replied as she zipped up her pair of black leather muggle boots. They often went out in muggle London on days such as these, and if Ginny remembered correctly, Hermione had suggested that they go see a muggle 'move', or something like that. "I've just been tired Tonks."

"Too tired to go see a muggle what-ya-ma-call-it?" Tonks asked with a grin and a wink.

"It's called a film or a _movie_." Hermione huffed as she walked into the room, three cups of coffee in her hands.

"Thanks 'Mione." Ginny shot her friend a grateful look as she accepted the steaming coffee. Lots of milk, lots of sugar. Perfect. She took a long sip before replying to Tonks. "'Course I'm not too tired to go watch a …"

"Movie." Hermione supplied for her.

"Yeah, that." Ginny shrugged and grinned. "I've heard those muggle claptors are really hot." _Liar_. She thought to herself. She really didn't feel like doing anything of the sort. Her thoughts were still filled with a rather hot wizard, to be truthful.

"They're called _actors_, Ginny." Hermione said with a sigh, rolling her eyes and laughing at her friends. "And yes, some of them are pretty cute."

"Awesome!" Tonks exclaimed and punched a fist into the air. "Let's go."

"Does Remus know you're this enthusiastic to see hot muggles?" Hermione teased as she and Tonks disappeared down the hallway. Ginny just shook her head as their voices drifted further away and she couldn't hear Tonks' reply. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

So the muggle movie hadn't been too bad, Ginny had to admit, if nothing else it gave a relatively good insight into the everyday lives of muggles, although Hermione maintained that it wasn't nearly that glamorous all the time. According to her the whole James Bond thing sort of blew muggle life out of proportion. Ginny made a mental note to take her father to a movie for his next birthday. He would love it.

The three women were leisurely strolling back to Diagon Alley when Hermione brought up the one subject that Ginny would have given anything to avoid.

"So have any of you actually seen Malfoy since his mysterious reappearance?"

Tonks shook her head. "I haven't. And fortunately our family connection isn't so close that I would be forced to either." She frowned for a moment. "I did see that Zabini boy in a restaurant the other night with the woman who runs Malfoy's business. I felt kind of sorry for her."

"Why?" Ginny croaked out, hope her friends wouldn't notice her odd reaction to the entire topic. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know what Malfoy and Zabini were up to or not, but the fact that the mere mention of his name was enough to make butterflies ponce around in her stomach disturbed Ginny slightly.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Zabini is still a handsome plonker, but just the way he looked at her made me nervous. It was almost like he wanted to eat her."

"Eew. Overshare." Hermione quipped. "I so didn't want to know that."

"Not in that way, silly." The older woman rolled her eyes at Hermione. "I mean as if what he was eating in the restaurant wasn't his actual meal, she was."

Ginny shivered, a feeling of foreboding suddenly making her cold, but she pushed it away, attributing it to her lack of peaceful sleep.

"Says the woman who is married to werewolf." Hermione teased, grinning at Tonks. "Get those looks often do you?"

Ginny and Tonks rolled their eyes in unison. "Funny 'Mione." Tonks muttered, but a smile was tugging at her face. "At least I'm not married to a man who one puked up slugs."

This sent the two older women into peals of laughter, and Ginny forced a grin. She really wanted the day to end. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with her friends, but rather that she had too many other things she needed to think about. One of those being Malfoy, and the other being the Ministry serial killer case. The whole department was at their wits end. There simply weren't any leads to follow. The autopsies done by the coroners weren't of much help, the crime scene units were unable to find anything, and there were no witnesses. All they had were a pile of useless bones.

"That's it!" Ginny cried out loud, startling her friends out of their conversation.

"What's what, Ginny?" Hermione wrinkled her nose and raised a brow at her red-haired friend.

"I know who can help us solve the murder!" Ginny was nearly bouncing out of her skin. "Tonks, I want you to contact Moody and get me permission to show the bodies to an outside specialist, plus the paperwork to do a memory-modifying spell on a muggle."

"What are you planning Gin?" Tonks asked eyes narrowed at her friend. "You don't actually think there's a muggle who could tell us anything our own team couldn't?"

Hermione huffed in indignation, but the two Aurors ignored her.

"Oh yes there is." Ginny smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. "I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier! I'm so going to prove my theory correct. Just get me the paperwork Tonks, please?"

"I don't know Gin, this could be risky. We can't afford to let the panic spread to the muggle world as well."

"Just trust me, please Tonks, this might be the only chance we have of catching these monsters, please?" Ginny gave her friend the best imitation of puppy eyes that she could do.

"Fine." Tonks sighed. "I'll go talk to Moody."

"Oh thanks Tonks, I owe you!" Ginny called over her shoulder as she turned to sprint away.

"You bet you do!"

**

* * *

****So that's it for chapter 7. Hope you all liked it. I know it probably wasn't worth the wait, but please review in anyway. I'm hoping that chapter 8 will be much longer and much more action packed than any of the previous chapters have been, and that it won't take me another year to get it out. **

**Thanks again for reading!**

**-Katyla**


End file.
